Talks
by LadyRudo
Summary: Enigmatic relationships, one conversation at a time.
1. In the Oldest of Houses

"They'll come after you, too. Eventually." The words fell like honey from thin, grinning lips. "Of course, you know that. They'll embrace you while you can help them. When the day comes that they finally get it through their skulls what you really are...you'd better be miles away. With their pitchforks and their torches, they will come for you, too."

Had his allies seen him in this moment, they would not recognize Vincent. His hair was disheveled, his posture lax, as he leaned far back in an old wooden chair, balancing delicately on two legs. A dark, tired smile played on his lips, taking in the warning words easily, and replying just as coolly, "Surely you don't think yourself a victim. Or are you really just trying to be a good son?"

Pale green eyes narrowed venomously, warning Vincent that he was treading a thin line. He did not care.

"Fate has been so unkind," he drawled sarcastically, leaning forward to plant all four legs of his chair. "Giving you a body that is the stuff of myth, a career that required maybe seven years of hard work before you could have disappeared into early retirement, all expenses paid for the rest of forever, if you had so chosen. You were handed the world on a platter, and you threw it away. You deserve what's coming for you," Vincent spoke lowly, his voice husky from disuse.

"The world on sparkling, silver platter...as long as I wore 'Property of Shinra' scrawled on my face for the rest of my life."

"You do anyway. Shinra born and raised, and destined to die by Shinra-trained hands. No escaping that."

The words made their target laugh from deep in his throat. He shook his head once, looking down in amusement.

"And you? A victim...Or just a fool?"

Vincent grinned again, his fingers circling the rim of an empty wine glass. "A fool. Leading with the heart, while logic screamed in protest. Thirty years later, I wonder if I have learned my lesson."

"No. You're still a fool."

Vincent nodded in agreement, then stood from the kitchen table.

"I don't know how you stay here. The formaldehyde is sickening."

"I can't smell it. I spend my time in the music room."

His back now turned as he walked out of the room, Vincent remarked, "How poetic."

"Didn't you?"

The question had teeth. Before, Vincent had played beautifully. Now his fingers did not fit the keys of the old piano in the room across the hall. He had tried more than once, and walked away feeling as though one more piece of the man he once was had been violently torn away from him.

He reached the front door and turned to look back at the kitchen's entry.

"When they come for you, I will too. Perhaps they'll turn on me, but they haven't yet. And I could not miss the opportunity to watch you burn. My hands may lack grace, but I can still hold a gun. You have youth, but not longevity."

The door creaking open complemented Sephiroth's throaty laugh.

"I will so miss our little talks."


	2. Of Changing Direction

"It's the principle-"

"It's always the principle."

"-of the matter. What kind of example does that behavior set? I cannot believe he tolerates it. And the look on his face...it's like he enjoys it." The small blonde tossed her briefcase on the kitchen table and kept walking to the living room, where she collapsed onto a black leather couch that was not her own.

"We're held to the highest standards, challenging even SOLDIER in our regulations. And he waltzes around like he owns the place," she exclaimed, exasperated and yet wound too tight to keep quiet.

"In a way..."

"No. In no way. I don't want to hear the speculation. I'm sick of the excuses. We're made to feel out of place when we FOLLOW the guidelines, and I won't stand for it."

"Say something."

"And to whom shall I make this complaint?"  
He shook his head, several dark hairs falling into his eyes. She instantly noticed the smirk and straightened her back in defense.  
"Is this funny to you?"  
He looked down at her defensive posture and shook his head softly. "I think you might be a little irrational right now, and maybe after a good sleep you'll see things differently."  
"Don't treat me like that. Taking my job seriously is not irrational. It's responsible."  
He smiled and nodded once reaching his hand out to gently cup the side of her face. She initially turned away, but quickly leaned back into the touch. "I understand that. But what you must understand is that this...this is not your sister's era. The president is aging quickly. Rufus is becoming an increasingly prominent figure. In times like these," he cooed, leaning in to whisper hotly against her neck, "flexibility is required."

His short beard scratched against her jaw as he smiled into her skin. She frowned, knowing he could not see her face.  
"He's trying to get under my skin. He's trying to scare me off, to unsettle me..." she thought aloud, fuming.  
"Don't let him," he replied breathily, smooth lips closing on her earlobe. She writhed internally until the revelation hit her like a train, causing her eyes to glow.  
"I won't. I'm asking for a transfer. I'll show that little prick. I'll train in the field...under Tseng."

The name chilled the air between them. He had heard the quiet rumors, and had chosen to ignore them. Reality was less simple to overlook. She took no time to notice the ache in his features as she stood, sliding out of his arms to retrieve her phone from her briefcase. From the stiff, empty couch, Reeve listened to Elena make the call while he breathed shallow breaths, the air of finality filling his lungs.


	3. Of Ties that Bind

"I guess I don't get why you worry so damn much about the past."  
Crystallic blue eyes glittered as the morning sun crept in through the dusty window of the ship.  
"It's my identity. I don't even know who I am. A past is proof of personality, morality. What I've done shows what I am. Without a past...I lack all of it. I'm a shell."  
Cid took a long drag from an ever-present cigarette and offered it to Cloud. He refused. After exhaling the deep nicotine-infused breath, the pilot shook his head.  
"That just don't make sense to me. We don't care about history anymore. It ain't what you did then, it's what you do now. You fight the good fight, Son. You got good in you right now, no matter what you did back then. We all got ties to Shinra. We all fed the beast one way or another."  
The younger of the two blonds ran his hand through his soft spikes. They stood with telling resilience.  
"Sure, Vincent was a Turk a long time ago, Cait Sith is...what he is, and you worked with in the engineering department...but no, not all of them."  
Cid laughed once. "You're right. Maybe the big cat is clean." He glanced over his shoulder to find Nanaki lying on the metal floor, leaning against Vincent, who had joined him in sitting on the floor, his back against the cool glass.  
"Aeris?"  
The name drew Cid's focus back to the conversation. "She told you first hand she loved a SOLDIER once..." He left the comment at that, allowing the worry surrounding her absence to settle over them momentarily. Cloud shifted his weight.  
"Not them. They've been on the right side from the start," Cloud argued sadly, nodding to Tifa and Barret, who sat across the spacious control room, looking out a large window and making small talk.  
"You're really missin' some history, Son. Avalanche has been around for years, which you know. Clearly, you don't know who provided a great deal of the rebels' funding in the old days."  
Cloud processed the words, and stared blankly ahead, watching the ground a hundred feet below.  
"Someone thought throwing money at a little terrorist group would be a good way to get back at Daddy, to chip away at the old Prez 'til there was no choice but to replace him."  
"You're lying."  
Cid laughed again and took another drag. Exhaling, he shook his head. "I ain't that good."  
"How do you know this and I don't? And they don't? Or do they?" Cloud glanced back at the pair again, his view colored with the new information. Cid offered him a puff again. He refused.  
"I must've been in the right place at the right time. I had a couple Turk connections. They suspected the little bastard had something to do with it. And when the money went missing..."  
"They must not know where that money came from. Barrett wouldn't let something like that go. He hates Shinra more than any of us."  
"Maybe so. But like I said, it don't matter what we did back then. What matters is the side we take now. Nobody here's got hands clean of Shinra." He sighed and nodded once, watching Bone Village come into view on the horizon. "Yessir, one way or another...we all fed the beast."  
"There it is," announced Tifa, signalling their arrival. "Who's going with us?"  
Upon turning to face her, Cloud caught Vincent glance down at the bubbly archeologists below and shudder. The silence that followed almost caused Cloud to grin.  
Cid brushed by Cloud's shoulder to ascend to the helm. As he passed the two quietest members of the team, still seated on the floor, he lowered his hand to offer Vincent a cigarette. He refused.


	4. Over Coffee

"She looks at you, you know."  
Vincent averted his gaze from the glossy bartop to glance quickly at the brunette. She smiled softly, knowingly. He clenched his jaw beneath the red collar.  
"Sorry. I shouldn't interfere. I can just sense that you're not telling us something. There's more going on with you than you let on. I thought you should know that if you feel alone, it's by your choice."  
Her directness caught him off guard. He had become accustomed to the wide berth everyone had given him. She invaded the space boldly, raising her hand to the bartender.  
"I'll have one of these," she ordered, pointing downward at Vincent's own drink.  
"It's coffee," he explained dryly.  
"She is not your type. That much is obvious. But I'm wondering if there's more than that. Is there someone else? Or was there?"  
His silence did not deter her.  
"I suppose you don't know what happened...if she is still out there, just waiting for you to find her, sweep her off her feet, and ride off into the sunset."  
"She's not."  
Her smile faded slightly as she picked up the mug now placed in front of her.  
"Doesn't mean you should give up on everyone," she suggested quietly, sipping her drink. Her eyes widened slightly. "Coffee, huh?"  
"Mostly."  
She laughed softly, setting the cup of spiked coffee back on the bar. Her head turned toward the far corner of the building at the sound of Cid and Barret's overpowering laughter.  
"They would welcome you, you know. You don't have to sit by yourself all the time. I bet...they might even like you."  
His response came lowly, a near growl.  
"I have nothing to say to them. I am here to find Hojo and kill him. That is my purpose for joining you. I'm not here to find clones, or discover Cloud's identity; to re-entangle myself with Shinra; not to chase after stolen materia or help restore a thief's relationship with her father. I want Hojo's head. Nothing more."  
"Then why do you stay? We all suspect he's in Midgar. Go get him yourself. Or are you just using us as a means to your own personal end?"  
The accusation stung coming from her.  
His grip tightened on his mug. "Are we not all using each other? Who here has stepped in front of a blade or bullet for anyone else? We invite each other to fight our personal battles, lest we take the damage ourselves."  
"Hmm..." she replied thoughtfully, furrowing her brow. A quick glance informed her that he was not going to make any eye contact. "I have no problem helping the others find peace. Why should that not be the reason the planet brought us all together? Your views of camaraderie seem awfully jaded. Is that what the Turks did to you? Turned you into a nihilist?"  
"A realist," he quickly shot back.  
"That must make me the idealist," she mused, a smirk playing on her features. "Well, ideally, you would accept that these people are willing to help you, and that any help you give them is greatly appreciated. I'm sure this path will eventually lead you to Hojo. In the meantime, maybe you should cultivate relationships with the people right in front of you instead of grieving those you've already left behind. I know you're a good man."  
The statement ended too abruptly. He knew she had more to say.  
"But?" he prompted.  
"But...this persona makes people nervous. And I might not always be around to stand up for you," she quietly warned.  
"I don't need anyone to stand up for me. If Cloud, or anyone else for that matter, should ever tire of me, I expect he would handle it like an adult."  
She let out a single, quiet laugh. "You're right. And who would ever want you to leave, anyway? You're a great help to our cause." She rested her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently. He wondered if anyone else could get away with such a gesture. She smiled wider and shook her head. "I suppose I was just being silly."  
With that, she picked up her mug and left the bar for the larger group in the far corner. From the corner of his eye, he noticed bright blue eyes burning holes into his back. His mind raced through the previous moments, pausing at her touch. He decided that Cloud's reaction stemmed from jealousy. After dipping the lower half of his face into his collar, he allowed himself to grin. The expression faded only slightly as a velvety voice began repeating in his mind.

_With their pitchforks and their torches, they will come for you, too._


	5. Of Mothers and Monsters

"You've mentioned fate before. Is that what brings you back?"

"I like to think I have more control than that."

"Then what is it? What is it you're controlling by coming here? The way I see it, you're living rather dangerously."

He grunted in amusement at the comment. "An addiction. A foolish desire that I imagine will kill me."

"Oh? That's much more interesting."

"Don't flatter yourself. It's not you. It's your lineage."

"Ancients are a sight to behold. I'll give you that."

"You're no Ancient, Sephiroth. You're just like the rest of us."

The slap that followed resounded through the foyer, bouncing off the gray walls and up the grand staircase. Vincent caught the smear of blood on the back of Sephiroth's hand and wiped the remaining drops from the corner of his mouth, flashing his eyebrows upward in condescending amusement.

"Feel better?"

"Marginally." Silence followed as Vincent ascended the staircase, heading for the only bedroom not covered in dust and cobwebs. Sephiroth followed. Minutes later, both lay on the bed, arms circled tightly around torsos. Vincent rested his cheek against a bed of silver hair while its owner buried half of his own face in the thick material of Vincent's cloak.

"When did you first meet her?" the younger man asked, running his fingertips through the long black hair covering Vincent's shoulder.

"It was here. The day I arrived, she greeted me...with this look in her eyes...as if she knew me."

"Or you wanted her to," countered the other.

"Perhaps. I don't remember much anymore," he admitted, allowing a hint of sadness into his voice. Sephiroth had no quip for that. "I know that everything about her was soft. Her voice, her hair, her eyes. She was an inherently warm, gentle woman. And...fragile."

"This doesn't help your case. She does not sound at all like me."

"Are we pretending you believe this again? Tomorrow you will be manic, and claim Jenova is your true mother. The cycle is predictable."

Strong fingers closed on the fabric of Vincent's shirt, easily grabbing the skin beneath, and twisted. He closed his eyes to ride out the act of aggression.

"I revel in your inability to control your temper. It's so...human," Vincent taunted, feeling the bruise form on his side. "She is very much your mother...She had a deeply hidden ability to hurt. That kind of beauty is so rare. She could shred you from the inside."

"That sounds more appropriate."

"Yes, I thought so, too."

"It's no mystery why you were drawn to her, then. You were both monsters."

"Ah, unlike you, I was not born this way. I had a chance, once, to be a perfectly normal, faceless Midgarian. To have the nine-to-five, the house, the wife, two point five kids, and a dog. ...Once..."

"You can't possibly think that's how your life would have gone." The silence said otherwise. Sephiroth continued, pulling back to look into the red eyes that lazily gazed down at him. "The gods had bigger plans. I am meant to take this planet as my vessel. I believe you are meant to be my nemesis."

"I'm not trying very hard."

Sephiroth smirked, lowering his head back to the warm chest below. "That's what makes you so good at it. You'll be the hardest to kill, when the day comes."

"Ah. So, who is villain here?" Vincent asked, intrigued by Sephiroth's logic.

"You, of course. Look at you. This black and red, the mangled body. You're an abomination. I have the body of an angel. Or haven't you noticed?"

Vincent nodded in feigned illumination. "You've really put some thought into this."

"I've had some time to process our visits." A long moment of silence prepped the air for the coming question.

"When will you do it? Summon Meteor?"

"Oh, telling you would take all the fun out of it, don't you think?"

"Of course. The fun."

"But I admit, I'm puzzled. Should I tear everyone out from under you, or do you the small mercy of taking you first?" At this, Vincent shrugged beneath him, turning his head away and closing his eyes. Quietly, he commiserated.

"Decisions, decisions."


End file.
